13. Waiting for the tide

They arrive at dawn or in the morning depending on the time of the tide, rowing their canoas along the Nhundiaquara river. Near the market, they unload a few bunches of bananas, some prata¹ with a white and acidic flesh, terra² that are fried with sugar and cinnamon, some of those de ouro³, small and perfumed, with a taste so delicate we recall memories of apples, peaches, and redcurrants. They also unload silver fishes, seldom some rough pottery, some bundles of wood, a badly tanned skin.

The women, who for coming to town, have put on their most dazzling dress, go do their purchasing, thread, needles, rolls of cotton, a bag of salt, a hoe for the garden. The men, sitting on their heels, chat by the pier, discuss their catch, recall stories of hunting onças⁴ or jaguatiricas⁵, amplified and embellished with the age of time.

The low tide has laid the boats on a bed of black and malodorous mud. At the moment the flood tide awakens them, the caiçaras⁶ will embark calmly toward their poor cob and bamboo huts, indifferent to missiles and to artificial satellites.
1. Type of banana, “silver”. 2. “of the land”. 3. “of gold”. 4. Jaguar; Panthera onça. 5. Ocelot. 6. “Coastal inhabitants” in the language of the Tupi brazilian natives.